It was not a long ride to Judy’s house. I had no time to recall the hours I’d spent in the WonderLand of Caroon’s Hairstyling. I was still fuzzy about that, and I suspected that the tea Simone had given me had been drugged, for I was still unsure of the reliability of my brain. Perhaps I’d hallucinated when I’d looked into the mirror. Was that how hallucinogenic drugs worked? Did they show you what you wished for?
The chauffeur again helped me. This time when he seized my elbow, he walked me to the door, rang the bell, then stepped away. “I will leave you here, Miss. Enjoy your evening.”
Although my boss, Ed Sanders, had plenty of money for servants, he personally greeted me at the door. The funny thing is that he appeared not to recognize me.
“Yes, may I help you?” he said. I could see he was preparing to slam the door in my face.
“Boss, it’s me, Penelope.” I laughed, even though the whole scene was a bit spooky. Had a bit of hair growth, some dye, and Simone’s professional application of makeup completely changed me?
“Penelope,” came the other voice I was familiar with. Judy gently pushed aside her husband, patting him on the shoulder. “Why are you blocking her way in? I told you I invited her here for dinner.”
“Um, um,” was all he seemed able to say.
Judy swung the door wider, then gasped. “Oh, my! Simone has done wonders. You are beautiful, Penelope. I mean, you always were. But now, you’re a super model.”
Her arm swung around my shoulder, and she pulled me inside. I expected to see a huge group of people. Judy loved to entertain. But I must have arrived too early, for I didn’t see anyone else as the three of us walked into the living room.
“What did you do to her, Judy? She was perfect before. Now she may not want to do her job. She may too busy primping like some of the other young ladies.”
“I would never do that, Boss,” I told him with a serious face and the assertion of knowing I could never be a kick back worker.
“Of course you wouldn’t, Penelope.” He laughed, a low-pitched fake laugh that told me he was extremely concerned that his wife’s interference might change more than my looks.
“What can I get you to drink?” he added, and called out for Christina, who was the usual maid during social events at the Sanders’ house.